Weeks with the Weasleys
by flash-rules
Summary: When Hermione is left out from a family vacation, she stays with the Weasleys until the school year starts again. Contains Spoilers for Past Books
1. Plans for Vacations

*Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. I only this fanfic, which you should not plagiarize. Please don't sue.  
  
*Thank you for visiting this story. It's turned into my baby! I love working on it. There's more chapters to come very shortly. Please visit back and read.  
  
*If you could spare the time, please review after you read the chapter. I'd much appreciate it. Constructive criticism, in my eyes, in wonderful.  
  
It's always quite hard for children to understand their parents. Hermione Granger was one of the millions of kids who just couldn't figure out what those adults were thinking sometimes. A psychologist might have suggested that it was the age gap, different views, or a bad diet...or it just might have been that Hermione Granger was a young witch while her parents were Muggles.  
Of course, the Grangers usually got along brilliantly. They were a wonderful family with wonderful values. Hermione's parents loved her very much, and Hermione loved them right back.  
Some days though, it just didn't work like that.  
  
Hermione rubbed her eyes sleepily and stumbled down the stairs of her house. She was still dressed in her pajamas, which were a light, cottony green. It was great to be home from Hogwarts. She missed school and her friends, of course, but at least she got to be with her parents.  
"Mum? Do you want me to make breakfast this morning? I know you're terribly busy, with all your paperwork and having to go to your office today. Oh, you really do have to go shopping today too, don't you?" Hermione had migrated over to the pantry, opened the door, and looked inside momentarily, saying, "Tsk, tsk. We need more tomatoes. And I'd love some flour to make biscotti with. Oh, Mum, remember that biscotti in Italy? It was delicious! Could we make so-"  
"Hermione, please. Please, just sit down for a second," Mrs. Granger said, cradling her head in one hand and looking quite tired. "There's something I really must tell you."  
Hermione's eyes widened a bit, along with her mouth, as she took a seat. She wondered what was wrong. Her mother never did this, especially when she was home from Hogwarts. "What is it?"  
Mrs. Granger sighed. "I know how much you enjoy being home for your summer break. Your father and I really love you coming home. You're always at that school."  
"You're not making me quit Hogwarts," Hermione told her mother, her voice quivering slightly.  
"No, no! Of course not, dear. We'd never make you quit." The woman sighed again. "It's just that your father and I decided to take a vacation."  
"What's wrong with that? It sounds great! Where are we going?"  
She hesitated. "Your uncle in Sweden just had a heart attack and his wife's taking it horridly. We're leaving sometime this week. We're going to stay with her for as long as she needs. If you came, you might miss quite a bit of your school year. It's just better if you didn't come."  
Hermione frowned. "I could come. I could stay until summer vacation ended and then fly back."  
"Dear, we may have enough money to live nicely off of, but it wouldn't be good for our account if you just came with us to stay for a week or two."  
With that, Hermione left her seat and started to pace silently through the kitchen. How could her mother do this to her? They had always taken all their trips as a family before.  
"It just wouldn't be plausible for you to come. Besides, we won't be leaving you alone. You'll be with your friends."  
"My friends?" Now that was a different story. "Who?"  
Mrs. Granger strolled to the desk, pulled out a drawer, shuffled through it, and revealed a postcard they had gotten last Christmas. It had a non-magical photograph on it, complete with nine shining red-heads.  
"The Weasleys."  
  
Hermione coughed suddenly to give herself time to think of something to say. In the end, it didn't work. Her head was still blank as ever.  
"The Weasleys?" she finally repeated.  
Her mother fumbled nervously, sliding the postcard back. "Well, yes. Is there something wrong? I thought you liked the Weasleys."  
"I do, I do! It's just...not what I expected."  
"So you'll go?"  
Hermione smiled. "Of course."  
  
Packing for a magical vacation proved to be hard. The Weasleys would be taking Hermione in for the remainder of the holiday and taking her to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She would have to pack enough for roughly a two months of vacation plus for the school year. It would all have to fit in her trunk.  
She started with what she would usually pack for Hogwarts. She didn't have many robes that still fit, but she put in all her good ones. She stacked everything else she might need into the truck. By the time she was done packing the things she'd need for Hogwarts, there wasn't much room left for anything for the vacation.  
After changing, Hermione put her pajamas, along with another set, inside. She stuffed the trunk full of whatever else she could fit. Then she pushed the top closed, struggling to lock it.  
"Mum!" she called, pulling the heavy trunk down the stairs. "Where should I put this?"  
"You should clear it first with the Weasleys. I haven't called yet," her mother told her.  
Hermione ran upstairs again, leaving her trunk where it was. She paced around her bedroom. How was she going to do this? She needed to contact the Weasleys soon. She had no owl, the Weasleys had no phone, and the post took too long. How could she ever manage this? 


	2. Letters

Hermione thought momentarily about telling her mother that she had no way to contact the Weasley family, but then decided that it wouldn't help any. Her mother wouldn't understand about owls and things like that. She didn't understand much about Hogwarts and the wizarding world, except for what she learned from Dumbledore's various letters. It just wouldn't work to try to work out any other plan with her. Hermione had to come up with a plan herself, which was really never that hard. She racked her brain, sorting out different plans.  
Apparating was out of the question. Even though Hermione was quite sure she could handle it, she hadn't taken the official test. It would be against the rules to try without officials there. If she even tried once, she would surely get caught.  
Harry had told Ron and her about the Knight Bus before. Traveling with two strange men didn't appeal to Hermione though. Her mother just wouldn't approve either. Unless there was no other way, she would rather not step foot on that thing.  
She didn't have any Floo Power. She didn't even have an open fireplace. The only fireplace the Grangers had was in Hermione's parent's bedroom, and it was closed off with mesh wire. Traveling by fireplace was out.  
Waiting was the only other option Hermione had. It only had a slight chance of working though. Hermione glanced at her watch. It would only work if Ron sent an owl to her in the next two hours or so. With the way Ron kept in touch with his friends, it didn't seem likely.  
What if Ron didn't contact? Mrs. Granger didn't know when she'd have to be called over to Sweden for her sister. For all anyone knew, it could be the next day. The sooner Hermione got off to the Burrow, the better. It would save her mother much trouble and anxiety.  
If Ron didn't owl soon, they wouldn't have much time. It would take time for her response owl about coming over to get to the Burrow. Then Ron would have to talk it over with his mother and figure out how to get her there. They would have to send to get her there also.  
Hermione sat down on her bed to think. She could go to Harry's. She knew where he lived: Number Four, Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. She didn't want to stay there though. Harry told many horror stories about his ghastly aunt and uncle. Besides, she didn't think his relatives would appreciate if she stayed.  
The Weasleys would have to take her. They were the only other wizard family she knew well enough to stay with. Whether Ron contacted or not, she had to find a way to get there.  
Realizing this, Hermione pulled out a scrap or parchment. She might as well get the note to Ron ready, in case he did contact. There was no sense in wasting time. She scrawled out:  
  
"Ron,  
  
My parents have to go to Sweden. They can't take me with them. They need me to stay at your house until the school year starts. I think they're leaving sometime soon. Could someone come pick me up to take me to the Burrow? I hate to invite myself, but I have to stay somewhere.  
I'm very sorry it's so short notice. Mum got the news just yesterday I think. I hope that doesn't matter too much and that I'll be able to come.  
Please write back soon! I think my parents might be leaving tomorrow.  
  
Sincerely,  
Hermione"  
  
She folded the parchment once, stuck it in an envelope, and wrote "Ron Weasley" on the front. She was careful not to seal it, in case she needed to add something more on it. Placing the envelope down on the desk, she took a seat again.  
Crookshanks prowled around Hermione's feet, darting aptly at a moth, playing a game with it by staying mere inches from it and trying to catch it just as it started to fly away. Hermione smiled and picked her ginger cat up in her lap, where he sat looking longingly at the moth. She stroked the cat's fur, wondering if she could ever get to the Burrow.  
At that exact moment, as Hermione was wondering if a message would ever come from Ron so she could use his owl to reply, an owl flew through the window. She leapt up, hoping it was Pigwidgeon. It wasn't. It was a large, snowy owl.  
"Hedwig!"  
The bird perched himself upon the top of her desk, extending a talon that was wrapped around an envelope. Hermione took it from Hedwig and opened it. She didn't open it eagerly though. Hegwig wasn't Pig, and Hermione couldn't send a letter to Ron with her. She opened the letter though, knowing she should read it.  
  
"Hermione,  
  
Aunt Petunia's mad at Hedwig. She says she made a mess of her bookself, which I know she didn't. Nonetheless, she told me to "get rid of the filthy bird" for now. I thought you should keep her for a few days. You're the most responsible person I know. Just be sure she's back in a few days.  
  
Harry"  
  
Hermione sighed, relieved. Thanks to Harry and Hedwig, she'd be able to send the letter to Ron. In gratitude, she fished a piece of biscuit out of a tin and gave it to the owl. Hedwig gobbled it up as fast as her beak could move.  
"Do you think you're up for another journey?" Hermione asked the bird, tossing her another bit of biscuit. "Can you take this to Ron at the Burrow?"  
She gave the letter to Hedwig, who took it in her talons. She hooted, then flapped out the window. Hermione watched as the owl disappeared into the distance. She hoped Hedwig would get that letter there soon.  
Realizing it had been over two hours since she had first run up to her room, Hermione scurried down the stairs again. Her mother was waiting at a table. She smiled grimly at her daughter and pushed the heavy trunk towards her slightly with her foot.  
"Guess who has to leave for Sweden in less than an hour?" 


	3. The Weasleys

"What?" Hermione whispered, her eyes getting wide.  
"Your father's coming home from the office soon. When he comes, we'll have to leave for the airport. We're going to try to catch an open flight there, dear," her mother told her.  
"I just have to stay here alone?"  
"The Weasleys would be picking you up sometime. It's not like you'd be staying here the whole time."  
"Oh. Right, Mum. What happens if the Weasleys can't take me though?"  
"They'll be able to. Such a nice family they are! Mrs. Weasley even said in her last postcard that she'd love for you to come over next holiday."  
"I suppose you're right. They're always ready for company."  
  
Hermione retreated back to her bedroom to check if she left anything behind that she wanted to take. To her surprise, Hedwig was sitting on top of her desk again, clutching a yellowed envelope. She hooted, a bit irritated obviously, and flew over to give it to Hermione.  
She took the envelope from the bird and absentmindedly pulled a biscuit from the tin to give to her. She opened the letter while Hedwig was busy picking at the food.  
  
"Hermione,  
  
Mum says that's fine. Unless Hedwig goes off track, by the time you get this letter we'll be about ten minutes away. See you then!  
  
Ron"  
  
Ten minutes until Ron came, approximately. Hermione urged Hedwig out the window, telling her to go back to Ron's. She then rushed back down the stairs. After much tearing about, she found Mrs. Granger in the kitchen, on the phone and talking with one of the neighbors.  
"Nancy, could you check on our house while we're gone? The key's right under the gray rock in the garden.No, no. You'll be able to tell.Thank you, Nancy!" Hermione's mother said into the phone.  
"Mum! Ron's coming in about ten minutes and-" Hermione started to say.  
Beep!  
"And the Weasleys are here," she finished lamely.  
With that, Hermione and her mother raced around trying to gather up things that weren't already packed. Mr. Weasley had come in to drag the trunk into their car. After a while everything was set. Hermione ran over to her mother, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran to the car, shouting farewells.  
  
Hermione got into the backseat of the car, where Ron and Ginny were sitting. She squeezed in beside Ginny.  
"How'd you get this car? I didn't think you'd ever be able to after that incident in our second year," she asked Mr. Weasley, half smiling, half glaring at Ron.  
"Ron owled me at work about you coming over. Seeing you had no other ride, I pulled some strings and got it," Mr. Weasley explained, patting the threadbare fabric covering the seat.  
"It's.nice," she commented, staring at the shabby car's interior.  
Ron rolled his eyes. "It's not nearly as good as the Ford Anglia. It had much better seats, Dad."  
Ginny sneered and said, "Well, then, it's a shame you had to go and wreak it in the Whomping Willow. Dad got in a lot of trouble for that, you know!"  
"He wasn't the only one that got in trouble," Ron mumbled.  
Hermione thought it was time to intervene. She though it was horrible that Harry and Ron had crashed the Anglia, of course, but now was not the time to talk about something like that. She was coming back to their house. Nothing was as bad as staying at a friend's house when all their family was mad.  
"So what's been happening at your house?" she asked the family.  
"Nothing much. Ginny got a nice broom since Dad got a raise. Fred and George still have the jokeshop. They're making quite a bit off it too. Bought me a new set of robes because I gave them a good idea for a candy," Ron told her.  
"Yeah," Ginny piped up. "It's called 'Pepperup Explosion'. It goes down quite easy, but once it hits your intestines." She made erratic hand motions and a loud noise similar to a sink erupting.  
Hermione didn't ask what would happen once it hit the intestines. She didn't want to know, though she thought she had a good idea of what it would be. She tried to change the subject.  
"So, Ginny, you've got a broom? Are you thinking of going out for the Gryffindor team?"  
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe once another member graduates and leaves Hogwarts. But I'm not sure if I'll try out even then. Wouldn't it be strange for both Ron and me to play on the same team?"  
"Maybe," Hermione agreed. Ron, on the other side of Ginny, cringed and nodded slightly.  
There was a lull in the conversation for a while. It was not an uncomfortable silence for Hermione. She rather liked sitting quietly in her own thoughts for a moment, thinking of what she might do at the Burrow.  
Mr. Weasley finally broke the calm. "We'll be at our house in a few minutes, everyone. Get your coats on, and when we're there we can all pitch in to get Hermione's trunk inside and help her get relaxed."  
"Oh, I won't be needing help to get relaxed. Your house is so welcoming. I don't see how anyone could not be comfortable there."  
Mr. Weasley beamed. "Why, thank you, Hermione. We've made do with what we have. I'm glad you like it."  
The children fumbled with their coats as the car rumbled down the dirt roads. It finally pulled into the yard and came to a stop in front of the Burrow. Everyone got out. Ginny led Hermione inside while Ron and Mr. Weasley carried the trunk.  
Hermione collapsed into a chair as soon as she got inside. It wasn't really that she was tired. Everything just looked so comfortable. Oh, it was good to be back. 


	4. The Burrow

Mrs. Weasley smiled at Hermione from the kitchen. "Why, hello, Hermione! It's nice to have you back here. It's been so long since you've visited," she said. "I would have come along to pick you up, but I just hate those machines that Muggles drive in. I don't see why the Ministry couldn't just apparate the lot of us over there."  
"I'm just glad to be here, no matter how I traveled." Hermione leaned back in her chair. "Though my parents are wonderful, it's great to be with some wizards."  
At that moment, Ron and his father struggled through the door with her suitcase. Hermione ran over immediately to help them. She grabbed a corner and wrestled to keep her part of the trunk from falling.  
"I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it would be this heavy to carry off the ground."  
Ginny ended up helping to, just to get the case into where Hermione would be staying, in Ginny's room. When everyone got downstairs again, Mrs. Weasley had hot tea and biscuits ready.  
"Food!" Ron moaned, looking longingly at the platters. "I haven't eaten since breakfast!"  
"Since breakfast?" Ginny looked at her watch. "That was two hours ago."  
"I know," he said, helping himself to a biscuit. "I'm a growing boy. I have to eat, Gin, or else I might shrink to nothing at all." He licked the crumbs of his fingers and reached for another.  
Hermione took a biscuit and bit into it. "Growing boy. Sure. You're already almost six feet, aren't you?"  
"Five foot eight," Ron announced.  
"Five foot eight," Mrs. Weasley repeated proudly, patting her son on the head. "And a prefect too."  
"What does that have to do with anything?" Ron said, sounding annoyed.  
"Nothing, dear. I'm just so glad you didn't leave school live Fred and George." Mrs. Paused. "Though they did buy this wonderful new dress." She ruffled the hem at the bottom fondly.  
"Hey, Ron! Maybe you could be a prefect and a joke shop owner too! Then you could buy me a nice dress too. I've been needing dresses," Ginny said.  
"If you ever need one, you can borrow one of mine, Ginny," Hermione told her. She took a final bite of her biscuit, finishing it off. "I have almost everything in that trunk. I didn't have time to be picky about packing."  
"Was that all clothes in there?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. He shook his head. "No, it can't have been. Felt like you packed a three ring circus, including the elephant!"  
"Mum rushed me! I didn't know she and Dad were leaving until today, you know."  
Ron refused to say anything more and laid down on the tatty couch. He was sprawled across it, feet propped up. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.  
"Oh, just be quiet. I'm so tired. Stupid owl got me up early."  
"You mean to say that ten o'clock is early? I'd been up for hours by then," Ginny told him. She walked to the couch. "Move your feet; I'm sitting down. Come on, Hermione. You can sit here too."  
Ron gave a groan, but moved his feet clear off the couch and onto the floor, making way for the two girls. Ginny ended up where his feet had been, her legs curled up under her. Hermione sat between them, leaning her head back.  
"Now that you mention it, I'm tired too."  
Before long, no one said anything and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock, slow breathing, and the occasional humming of Mrs. Weasley. You could bet on your life that within five minutes the kids were asleep. It was only a bit after noon and they were slouched on the old couch, heads on each others shoulders. Ron gave a loud snort every few moments, Ginny had sprawled over top the other two, and Hermione was snoring softly on Ron's shoulder.  
"Poor dears. What a day, and it's hardly been started yet," Mrs. Weasley whispered to herself. 


	5. Drool with Noodles

Author's note: Sorry if I made Ron a bit short in the last chapter. I suppose it's because I'm short. In my eyes, anyone who's over 5'5" is tall. :)  
  
Hermione woke with a start to find her head resting on Ron's shoulder, a bit of drool escaping from her mouth. Oh, no. She had forgotten she did that sometimes while she slept. Giving a quick wipe at her mouth with her sleeve, she sat upright and looked around.  
Mrs. Weasley had obviously left the kitchen. Worn, but clean, dishes had been set on the table. A small pot of noodles sat half-cooked on the stove. Hermione could hear a faint whistling from the back yard. The woman must be outside, hanging laundry.  
Hermione turned her gaze to her friends. Ginny was still stretched out, though not as much. She was hanging over the edge of the couch. Her arms were drooped, and her tongue lolled out dramatically. Though she lay in an odd position, Ginny looked quite comfortable and sound asleep.  
Ron was on her other side. Hermione could feel his feathery hair on her arm. She turned to look at him. His eyes were half open, and his mouth had curved into a slight smile.  
She gasped softly.  
"I was seeing how long it took you to realize I was awake." He smiled. "Over thirty seconds, at least."  
"How long were you awake?" Hermione asked, unconsciously wiping at her mouth to check for remaining drool.  
"Oh, about fifteen minutes or so." Ron looked down at his sleeve, which was dribbled with saliva. "By the way, 'Mione, you slobber in your sleep."  
Hermione said nothing, though she crossed her arms. She frowned, then headed into the kitchen. Circling the table once, she looked over what Mrs. Weasley had made for them before.  
"Your mother made lunch," Hermione told Ron, setting down four bowls. "It's noodles with cheese sauce." She laid some napkins down. "Get forks, will you?"  
"Sure." He got the forks and silently set them down in their places, next to the bowls. After a while he sighed and said, "Hermione, you're not mad about the drolling thing, are you?"  
Hermione raised her chin a bit higher and closed her eyes. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."  
"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ron said gently. "You know what I mean."  
Hermione dropped her gaze to the floor. "Drop it. It's a very personal matter. All Grangers have a problem with it."  
"Okay, 'Mione. I promise, I won't say anything about it." Ron walked over to Ginny, who by now had taken over the whole couch. "Gin, wake up. Mum made lunch."  
"Lunch," Ginny repeated, as if not fully awake.  
"Yes, lunch. Noodles with cheese sauce."  
"Oh. Noodles." Ginny blinked groggily a few times, then sat up. "Ugh, I hate it when Mum makes noodles with cheese sauce."  
"Everyone does," Ron said. He glanced over at Hermione, who was now rearranging the forks Ron had laid down before so they would look nicer. He lowered his voice a bit. "But you know we can't afford fancy dinners, Gin."  
"It's getting cold!" Hermione called.  
With great difficulty, the two siblings tried not the look disappointed as they neared the noodles. They knew they were facing yet another meal of soggy noodles drenched in some sort of cheesy concoction, a sign both of them knew that meant money was too sparse to buy good meals. Now Hermione would be eating that horrible food, probably knowing exactly how poor the family was. What a horrible time this was going to be. 


	6. Troubles

Author's Note: A special thanks to every that's been reviewing. It's such a morale booster to see everyone's encouraging comments. And I'm sorry it took so long to put this new chapter up. I've been working on it for a long time, plus I had midterms (which I did great on, by the way!). The chapter isn't as long as I thought it would be, mostly because I decided to split it up into two parts. So sorry for the short chapter. It has a cliffhanger, but I'll be sure to come out with the next chapter very soon. :)  
  
Ron and Ginny took seats on either sides of Hermione. They slumped in the chairs, wishing that the food was anything but noodles with cheese sauce. Hermione was sure to know exactly how poor they were.  
Not that Hermione would be as mean as Malfoy about it. She wouldn't ever do that. Ron was just worried about how she'd react. She may even start a "helpful" club, just like she'd done with the house elves and S.P.E.W..  
"Hermione," Ron started.  
"Yes, Ron?" she said, corning a cheesy noodle with her fork.  
"Erm, well." He stumbled over words. "You know abo-" He trailed off, mumbling.  
"Ron, you'll have to speak up. I can't hear you."  
He decided on a different approach, one with small sentences. Maybe then he could handle saying something without rambling too much.  
"My family. You know about-" He gulped, wondering if he should really say this. "About how we don't have much money and all?"  
Hermione blinked. "Why are you bringing this up? You know, it doesn't really matter how much money you have. Not to anyone but that idiot Malfoy, that is."  
"I know. I-" He sighed. "It's just that you're here now. You'll probably notice it even more now."  
"I've been here before."  
Ginny intervened before anything else could be said. "Hermione, don't worry about it. It's always a little tough when we have people over. Our house just sort of shows what kind of money we have."  
"That's all you were worried about, Ron? I've known for a while about your family's money problems."  
"It's not like I shout about it at the top of my lungs, Hermione! Really, were you trying to nose around and figure out what kind of family we were?" Ron said bitterly.  
"It's not like that!" Hermione searched for words. "Besides, that's not even what we were talking about!"  
Ron's face had turned a deep shade of red. "Shut it, Hermione."  
Ginny grabbed Ron by the arm. "You're not thinking straight. Go to your bedroom and stay there until you've calmed down."  
"You're not Mum, Ginny."  
"Go upstairs. Now." She pointed to the stairs demandingly. Ron made a snarled face and headed to his bedroom without another word. "Really, Hermione, I don't know what's wrong with him. He just sort of snapped."  
"I guess he's just protective of his family." Hermione sighed. "I just don't understand. I didn't try to insult you or your family or anything!"  
"I know you didn't. Ron just wasn't being himself."  
"Should I go and talk to him?"  
Ginny shook her head. "No. Maybe later. Not now."  
Hermione started to clear the table, emptying the bowls and putting them in the sink. Her eyes then widened for a moment. She dropped a bowl into the sink, making a great rattle.  
"Ginny? How long has your mum been out there?"  
Ginny's eyes widened too. "For hours and hours. She was out there while we were sleeping, I think. She usually checks into the house once in a while, Hermione."  
Hermione wrung her hands. "Maybe she just is enjoying the outdoors for a while longer than expected. You know, getting some air."  
"I don't know. We have to go check."  
With that, they ran out the back door of the house. Everything looked fairly normal. Though the empty laundry basket needed putting away, the clothes were neatly pinned up on the line. There was no sign of Mrs. Weasley.  
"Mum?" Ginny called. After no answer came she decided, "She must be in the garden. Sometimes she can't hear us from that far away."  
The garden was only a moment's paces away, through a few trees and down a path. The weaved through the trees and ran hurriedly down the path. A picketed fence ran the length of the garden, with an old gate in the front.  
Ginny was running so fast that she ran straight into the fence. She let out a gasp, winded. Hermione ignored her though, her eyes fixed on something inside the garden.  
"Ginny," she whispered. "Your mum is in there."  
Ginny got a good gulp of air, then looked into the garden. "Oh my Lord," she murmured. "Mum!"  
Mrs. Weasley was lying in the dirt, face down and still.  
  
Author's Note: Again, sorry for the short chapter. I'll come out with the next one very quickly. 


	7. Mrs Weasley

Author's Note: I'm really sorry! I know I promised to be very quick with this new chapter. But things pop up. I'm really sorry! I should've known better and made time to write. It was horrible of me to not keep the promise of a quick update.  
  
"Ginny," Hermione said slowly, but speaking calmly. "Go inside. Get Ron. Owl your dad or someone else that could help. And get some chocolate and my wand. Both should be in my trunk."  
Ginny nodded, crying all the while. She ran up the path and into the house. The door shut with a slam as she rushed into the house.  
Averting her gaze from the frantic Ginny still visible from the windows, Hermione opened the gate to the garden hesitantly. She padded through the dirt quickly, then knelt beside Mrs. Wealsey.  
"Mrs. Weasley?" she whispered.  
There was no answer. The woman didn't even move.  
"Molly?" Hermione tried again, this time raising his voice a bit. She gave Mrs. Weasley a cautious poke.  
When there was still no answer, she started to cry and laid her head in her hands. Her calm exterior was gone now. She couldn't hide her fear. But she had to gather herself up and quit crying before Ginny came back with Ron. It would only make everyone more nervous.  
Ron came out of the back door, pulling Ginny gently by the arm. The rushed down the path and stop at the edge of the garden. Hermione wiped away her tears and quickly tried to compose herself.  
"Mum..." Ron hung behind the gate. "Is she...?"  
"No." Hermione shook her head. "She can't be."  
Ginny handed Hermione the wand and the chocolates. Hermione slid a chocolate into Mrs. Weasley's mouth, making sure she wouldn't choke but would still be able to digest the chocolate. She then picked up the wand and pointed it at Mrs. Weasley.  
"Don't!" Ginny cried.  
"I have to do something. We can't leave her like this." Hermione took a breath, then yelled, "Ennervate!"  
After a few seconds, the woman's eyes fluttered open. She murmured inaudibly for a bit, then suddenly seemed much more awake.  
"What are you all doing here?"  
Ginny was the first to answer, though her voice quivered throughout her explanation. "We found you out here, Mum. You must've passed out."  
"Passed out?"  
"Maybe from the heat," Hermione suggested.  
  
After more explaining and a bit of talking, the kids helped Mrs. Weasley into the house. She changed into a nightgown and crawled into bed. She obviously needed rest about the ordeal.  
Ginny was quite shaken by the whole thing. For a while she disappeared into her room after thanking Hermione.  
Though Ron was shaken, he didn't leave the room once they got to the living room. After a moment a silence, he sat down on the couch, gently pulled at Hermione's arm, and motioned for her to sit down.  
"I'm... really sorry, Hermione," he said. "For yelling and all. I know you don't think that." He reached back and scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, not knowing what to say after that.  
"It's fine, Ron. Really, it is."  
"No, it's not. I mean, Hermione, you wouldn't think that and I know you wouldn't and you're really..." Ron tried to continue but was abruptly cut off by Hermione's hand over his mouth.  
"Really, it is." She removed her hand and gave him a quick kiss on the check. "It's been a long day. I think I'll go to bed early."  
Ron seemed dazed. "What? Oh... sure. G'night, 'Mione." 


	8. Wakeup Call

The next week passed in a hurried blur. Mrs. Weasley was back to normal. There was plenty of rushing about the Burrow and plenty of laying about on the couches. All in all, things were rather mundane. That is, they were rather mundane until it was time to go get supplies for the new school year.  
Early one morning, Mrs. Weasley popped her head into the living room. The kids had plopped themselves down on couches and chairs to sleep the night before, too tired to stumble into their beds.  
"Kids? Your letters from Hogwarts have come! We'll have to go shopping at Diagon Alley," she said, gently giving them each a shake to wake them up.  
Hermione's eyes fluttered open. "So soon?"  
"Of course. You have to get ready for school sometime. It starts in a couple weeks, dear." Mrs. Weasley laid the piece of parchment on a nearby table, then bustled back the hallway.  
Hermione propped herself up to get a look at the list. There were several books on it, most of which she had already read. It looked like it wouldn't be a very challenging school year. Hermione sighed in disappointment.  
Ron was looking at his list. He flung the paper towards her and promptly asked, pointing towards the area where the books were listed, "Okay, 'Mione, how many of them have you read this year?"  
She sighed again, then began to lecture. "Ron, it doesn't matter. You'll have to read the books anyway and it's not like I'm going to do your homewo-"  
"Oh, come off it. How many?"  
"Six." She paused. "And a half. I haven't finished 'Dueling and Its Consequences' yet."  
Ron smiled cheerfully. "Oh, good. It'll be an easy year then."  
Hermione shook her head at him, clicking her tongue scoldingly. "You're supposed to be learning, not just having an easy year! How can you learn if all you do is ju-"  
"Don't worry, I'll live," Ron said, laughing. "It's not like it'll hurt to have an calm year for once, one where I don't have to do that much work."  
"Like I told you, you'll still have to do work. I'm not just handing over my work for you to copy."  
"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. Of course you will."  
Hermione frowned. "Oh? And why do you say that? Maybe I won't."  
"But you will. You always have." Ron tried to remember the last time Hermione hadn't helped them with their schoolwork. If she had, it was only once or twice. She had been good about helping.  
"You need to learn how to finish these sort of things by yourself, Ron! I won't always be there to lend a hand when you don't know what to do."  
This struck home. It had never occurred to the boy that Hermione wouldn't always be around. She'd probably get to be Head Girl, get too busy for him and Harry, then find some job where there'd would be a lot of rushing about and no time for her friends from Hogwarts. She wouldn't always be there to help.  
Ron stumbled over the words. "Well... maybe you won't always be there. But can't... can't you just help us out this year? Just this once?"  
Hermione sighed, knowing that she'd most likely end up doing most of his work. "I'll think about it. But for now, we have to get these things at Diagon Alley." She gestured towards her letter that laid on the table.  
"Well, Mum'll take us. Dad's at work. But I'm sure she'll be able to use that car he got." He thought for a moment. "We'll have to pick up Harry, I suppose. I don't think he has a way of getting there."  
With that, Ron rushed back the hall, calling for his mother to come and drive them to Diagon Alley. The woman hurried back through the hall, then led Ron back to the living room where Hermione was. She sat down, pulling the boy down on the couch beside her.  
"Ron, dear, I don't want you to get too excited but..."  
It was too late. She should've never said those words. Mothers should know that when they say something like that, the child will inevitably get excited and will never be able to listen to the words following whatever they're not supposed to be getting to excited about.  
"But I can't drive you to Diagon Alley," she finished.  
Hermione and Ron both looked aghast. "But, Mrs. Weasley! How will we get the supplies that we need for Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.  
Mrs. Weasley smiled slightly. "It doesn't mean that you won't get to get your things, dear. It's just... I won't be able to drive, since I had that scare out in the garden and am not feeling wonderfully lately. And Ron's father is at work. There's no one to drive you two. So... Ron, don't get excited. I'm letting you drive the car your father borrowed."  
Here Ron made a surprised noise somewhere in between a squeak and a squeal. It wasn't everyday that an underage wizard got to drive a car... at least, not with his mother's permission. He tried to thank his mother, but no words came out. Instead, he just grinned and nodded his head rapidly.  
"Now, I want you to be careful! Are you listening?" Of course, Ron wasn't. "Listen, dear. I want this car back in the shape your father borrowed it. Be very careful. Don't hurt yourself. Don't wreck. Don't let anyone see you, for God's sake. They'll ask for a license and you won't have one and they'll take you away and I'll never get to see you ag-"  
Ron kept nodding, but he wasn't really listening. Hermione interjected. "We'll be fine, I promise. I won't let him do anything ridiculous. It's wonderful that you're letting us go. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I promise we'll be careful."  
Mrs. Weasley nodded, trying not to start lecturing again. Hermione was a smart girl. She knew she'd make sure everything would be okay. But even though she knew Hermione would probably be able to handle whatever might arise, she couldn't help but feel as if something terrible would happen. 


	9. A Bad Start

Ron slipped on his shoes hastily. "Can you believe it, 'Mione? She's letting me drive the car! I never thought she would... not since that incident in our second year, that is. I mean... wow."  
"Don't get too excited, Ron. You have to be careful. You can't just go and drive recklessly and bump into Muggles and get caught by the police and get kicked out of Hogwarts and get your wand taken away and..." Hermione trailed off, adding more terrible things that could happen.  
Ron gave her a quick pat on the head, rushing to get his jacket. "Calm down. We'll be fine. I've driven before, you know."  
She sighed. "Fine, fine. At least Ginny and I will be there to keep an eye out." She gave Ginny, who was still sleeping on the couch, a shake. "Wake up. Ron's taking us to Diagon Alley."  
The younger girl's eyes widened. "What? Mum's home. Why can't she take us?"  
Ron squared his shoulders proudly. "She's not feeling well, so she's entrusting me to drive you there."  
Ginny eyes widened more, threatening to pop out if one more surprising thing was said. "No. Absolutely not. You'll kill us all."  
"I will not!" he said, indignantly.  
"Of course you will. Everyone knows what you did before with Dad's flying car. And if you're on the streets with the Muggles... oh, Ron, don't hit anyone!" Ginny shouted. "I don't want to go," she said decidedly.  
Hermione stepped in. "Really, Ginny, it'll be fine. You and I will be there if Ron isn't being responsible." Ron opened his mouth to stand up for himself, but Hermione put a finger to her lips as a sign of silence. "Everything will be okay. We'll make sure your brother is driving carefully."  
Ginny nodded. "I suppose you're right. We'll be there. And if he does do anything wrong, I'll make sure Mum knows of it." She shot Ron a wicked look. "And I'm sure Fred and George will be happy to help out in the punishment too. I hear they have a new product on the market: Invisible Itching Powder."  
The older girl frowned. "I think Fred and George can stay out of this for now, Ginny. But, rest assured, your mother and father will know if anything happens. I'm sure nothing will though. Ron will be very careful, won't you, Ron?" She looked over at him with furious eyes, warning him.  
He turned the shade of burgundy, then nodded. "Of course. I... uh... I don't see how you could... uh... think that I wouldn't be careful."  
"Good. Ginny, put on some clean robes, then get into the backseat. We'll be out in a little bit." Hermione kept her gaze on Ron as Ginny hurried to her room.  
Once the younger girl was out of hearing range, Hermione started to lecture. "You have to be careful. Do you realize how much trouble we could get in? I'm counting..." She hastily ticked off on her fingers. "Eleven ordinances broken."  
Ron furrowed his brow in confusion. "But you only have ten fingers up."  
"That's because I only have ten fingers, Ron. Honestly, how you can be so idiotic at times, I don't know."  
"I was kidding!"  
Hermione headed off upstairs. "Okay, fine then. Just get ready and get into the car. And put on a new shirt. That one has jam all over the front."  
"You're starting to sound like my mother!" he called after her.  
She slammed in the bathroom door in response.  
  
The car had hurriedly acquired a painful unease when Hermione entered. "It took you long enough to get ready."  
"Oh, really, Ronald! Your sister is still getting ready. Just because you dress faster than everyone else doesn't mean that you should yell at the rest of us for taking more than six seconds," Hermione said, rather sorely.  
"I thought you were the one always worrying about being late."  
"Well, maybe I actually want to look presentable in public, unlike you. I see you're still wearing that jam-covered shirt."  
"It's not covered! It only has it on the sleeves!"  
"You're supposed to spread the jam on the bread, Ron, not the shirt. I honestly don't understand how you managed to get it all over. You must have used the whole jar!"  
"It's not my fault that the knife slipped! I was just... You know, I don't even want to continue this. You sound exactly like my mother. I don't want to even talk to you if all you want to do is complain about how I look." Ron turned the car on, then switched on the radio to a cheerful Muggle jingle for soap detergent.  
Ginny opened the car door. "I'm ready. Let's go." Her smile quickly faded as she realized the tension. "Ah... another fight?"  
It was going to be a long trip. 


	10. Watch for Chickens

Ron pulled out of the driveway hastily, making the wheels squeal. He gave the steering wheel a fierce jerk to avoid hitting the Weasleys' mailbox, then pulled onto the road without looking first.  
Hermione had been trying to keep quiet about his not-so-good driving skills, but couldn't stand it any longer. She had managed to keep quiet for a grand total of eighteen seconds. "Really, watch where you're going! We could've been hit! You didn't even look to see if anything was coming before you pulled onto the road."  
"Hermione, we're in the middle of nowhere! Cars never come by here. The neighbors' chickens rarely even cross this road," Ron told her.  
Hermione huffed. "Well, there's bound to be something on the road. Probably those chickens." She gestured vaguely out the window. "There's all sorts of things out there, waiting to run out onto the road and get hit. We're bound to get into a wreck with you!"  
"Well, would you listen to that, Gin? Apparently we haven't figured out /I the chicken crosses the road, but we've decided I will most definitely hit the chicken with the car."  
"Oh, don't drag her into this, Ron!"  
"Well, it's not like she can't hear us. Might as well let her have a say in my bad driving also." Ron turned around to look back at Ginny. "What do you think, Gin?"  
"I'm thinking you should probably keep an eye on the road." The younger girl nodded toward the road. "There's a turn coming up."  
Ron yanked at the steering wheel. "I knew that."  
"For goodness' sakes, Ron. I could drive better than you," Ginny teased. "At least I wouldn't drive us into mailboxes."  
"I never actually hit that mailbox, you know..."  
Hermione pointed out the window. "Watch out for the chicken."  
The boy frowned and tried very hard to ignore the chicken comment. "Anyways, that's just too bad, Ginny. You're not driving. I'm the oldest one here, meaning I'm the one that should drive."  
"There's another chicken coming up."  
"For God's sake, Hermione, I see the chicken!"  
Ron swerved to avoid the upcoming poultry, running the car off of the road. They skidded along the gravel while the driver jerked the steering wheel frantically to try to get back onto the road. After several failed attempts and much shouting, the car had managed to dent its side by grazing a large tree and then as a finale got stuck in a ditch.  
The kids in the car, all heaving breaths and trying to figure out exactly how much damage had been done.  
"Anyone hurt?" Hermione asked.  
"No."  
"No."  
They sat silently for a while longer. There was quiet shuffling and shifting, but no one spoke for a long while.  
Ron broke the silence. "It wasn't my fault."  
The girls glared. How stupid could he be? Here they were, in a wrecked borrowed car, and all Ron could think about was getting the blame off of himself.  
"Well, it wasn't. If you hadn't had pointed out that stupid chicken..."  
"Oh, shut up." Hermione clapped a hand over the boy's mouth. "Ginny, how are we going to fix this?"  
"I don't know."  
"Get out of the car and see how much damage was done."  
Ginny followed the instruction, getting out of the car and circling several times before stooping down the look at the dent.  
Hermione removed her hand from where it laid over Ron's mouth. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"  
He hesitated. "I... I'm an idiot." He then bent over to give her a small and uncertain kiss on the forehead. "And I'm sorry." With that, Ron pushed the car door open and stood beside Ginny to assess the damage.  
"It's only a dent. Nobody will notice," Ginny said hopefully.  
Ron ran his hand over the dent. "Gin, it's more than a foot long. Somebody's bound to notice. Besides, how are we going to get out of the ditch?"  
The girl shrugged. "No idea."  
"Well, we've got to try something. Get in the car."  
  
"Ron, this isn't going to work."  
It was settled. After several attempts of trying to get out of the ditch, nothing had worked. It was hopeless. They would just have to walk back and tell everyone what had happened.  
Ron got out of the car, muttering and cursing. He then resolved to take out all his anger by repeatedly kicking the oak tree.  
Ginny was mumbling under her breath about how much they were going to get in trouble and how it was all her brother's fault.  
Hermione, however, was quietly thinking. It was times like these were her brain could get her out of bad situations.  
"Ginny... get into the front seat."  
"What? Why?"  
"Just do it before Ron notices. Maybe you can get the car out of the ditch."  
Ginny reluctantly slipped into the driver's seat, then shifted the car into reverse. "I don't see how this is going to work, Hermione. If Ron couldn't do it..."  
"You've seen how he drives. You can't expect him to. At least try it. What could it hurt?"  
Ron noticed the rev of the engine and the turning of the wheels immediately. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled above the noise.  
There wasn't much he could do. The car thrashed about in the ditch for a while, then one wheel managed to find its way onto safe footing. The other back wheel followed, pursued by the other two shortly afterward. The car was out of the ditch.  
Ron ran up to the vehicle. "Ginny..."  
She smiled. "Yeah, I know. I got the car out. It was Hermione's idea for me to try."  
"But..."  
"Now get in the back. I'm driving." 


End file.
